


electrical signals

by zephryus



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Breaking Up & Making Up, Fluff, Getting Back Together, Light Angst, M/M, dreams kinda dumb but thats ok he gets back together w george in the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:54:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29790183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zephryus/pseuds/zephryus
Summary: "We should get back together," Dream says, without thinking. He's talking about Minecraft, but the way George laughs a little he knows it could mean something else.(Or, Dream broke up with George because he was scared. He's still scared, but he's willing to try harder now.)
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 354





	electrical signals

**Author's Note:**

> yes this is because of a single thing dream said in a george alt stream shut up have a good day <3
> 
> (title from we met on the internet by will joseph cook)

“We should get back together,” Dream says, after a couple minutes of silence, and George nearly chokes on his water. They’re collecting resources in their Minecraft survival world they just started, George is in a ravine, dutifully mining away for various materials, and Dream is in a village, taking everything they have, both of them a little far away from their base.

Logically, George knows Dream said it because night was imminent and hostile mobs were about to start spawning in, but logic doesn’t stop his heart leaping into his throat. He laughs a little, just enough to be picked up by his headset mic and his icon on Discord flashes green briefly. The call shows that over five and a half hours have elapsed. He’s long since stopped being shocked at the length of their calls, he’s sure that if he bothers to go through their message history, it’d be littered with calls over ten hours. He thinks their record is over thirty, when they’d both fallen asleep and couldn’t bring themselves to leave.

“What?” Dream asks, soft and wondering, curious and a little amused, though George is fairly sure that he’s perpetually amused by him.

“Nothing,” George replies, because he’s sure as hell not going to admit that he’s not over him, “nothing, just come back to base quickly, night’s started.”

“Okay,” Dream says in the voice that means ‘we’re talking about this later’, because he’s never been able to stop pushing, especially when it’s George.

“Whatever,” George knows his voice and his cadences and his tones intimately well, after years of calls hours long he would be concerned if he didn’t, he knows what it means when he drags out the last syllable a bit and lets it hang in between them, he knows it means he’s going to pick it back up later. George firmly decides that’s a problem for future-him and focuses his energy on placing water above him to swim his way out of the ravine.

Dream is already in their house, locking away what he got from the village in chests and cooking food. He tosses a couple stacks of food towards George, who, in turn, gives him the armor and tools he’d made in the ravine.

“Do you just want to stay in here and wait for the night to pass?”

George nods on instinct before he forgets that Dream can’t see him. “Yeah,” he says, a little late.

Dream lets out a laugh, long and wheezy and familiar, “You just nodded, didn’t you?”

“Shut up,” George says, grinning, and he wouldn’t be surprised if Dream knew about that too.

“Make me,” Dream says, caught up in himself, half-distracted, without missing a single beat.

The silence over them is thick and unbearable and it lasts barely a second before Dream opens his mouth to say something, anything, but George beats him to it, pummeling his Minecraft character with his fist. His godawful green skin flashes red and he drops a heart and a half.

“George!” Dream yells over George laughing, and he knows that if he had his webcam on, he’d have a shit-eating grin wide across his face, “you know this is a team game, right?”

George carries on laughing, even as he tosses him some bread to make up for it.

-

“I think I’m in love with you,” Dream whispered. He kept his eyes trained on one of the YouTube play buttons hanging above his desk, refusing to look at the Discord window on his monitor, even though neither of them had their cameras on. He didn’t know why he said it, maybe it was because they were both tired, because they were talking for going on twelve hours, going about their various tasks with each other. It was easy to imagine the rest of his life like this, with George next to him.

“You think?” George asked, steady and calm as if they were discussing the weather outside. Dream glanced out the window, now that it was on his mind. The sun was rising, flooding the sky with pink and orange and yellow, chasing away the moon and her stars. For George it would be noon, the sun would be high in the sky, maybe it would be sunny today, or maybe it would be dreary and raining.

“I know,” Dream said, firmly, “I know I’m in love with you.” His heart was beating its way out of his chest, battering his lungs and his ribcage. He didn’t want to lose George, he’d rather quit YouTube than lose George.

George was quiet for long enough that Dream got ready to talk himself out of it, to make excuses and talk in circles. Logically Dream knew it was because that’s just what George did when he’s faced with something tough. George took his time to methodologically go through each solution and action that presented itself and chose the correct path. They’d played enough chess games for Dream to know that. Almost selfishly he wished there was a timer, bullet chess style.

“I’m in love with you too, and I have been for a while,” George admitted, quietly. He wasn’t whispering like Dream had been, but it came from the back of his throat, unfiltered.

Relief flooded through Dream like a wave finally crashing and breaking, his heart slowed down and then sped back up, “What does that make us?”

George laughed, and Dream could picture him so easily, leaning back in his chair, pushing a hand through his hair, and his heart ached with how much he wanted to be with him.

“Ask me to be your boyfriend, Dream,” George told him, light and teasing.

Dream couldn’t stop the laugh that jumps out of his chest if he tried. He could hear himself, and he sounded so fond and lovesick it was almost embarrassing, “Okay,” he starts, giddy, “George, will you be my boyfriend?”

-

It takes them longer to beat the game then it really should have, they go off on tangents and get distracted and it hits Dream just how much he’s missed him, being easy with him.

-

“It’s like nothing’s changed,” Dream said, his voice rough and a little muffled. It was nearly midday for George, but the sun had just about risen for Dream, and neither of them had slept for the past fourteen-ish hours. They were both in bed, four thousand miles apart.

“Yeah,” George agreed. In the month they’d been together, nothing much had changed, except George could tell Dream exactly what he thought, rather than smothering it in jokes, and Dream meant what he said more, and they took the flirting further and further, until it melted into soft words full of love, instead of laughter and false disgust. It was remarkably easy, it was easy for George to give himself over to a guy he was yet to even properly meet, and he should have been scared, the vulnerability should have scared him, but he’d known Dream for years. Falling in love with him was easier than breathing.

“But I think we were better as friends.”

“Oh.”

George’s heart stopped, frozen in his chest and nestled between his lungs. He just about prevented the flow of questions and thoughts from falling from his brain and out his mouth, through his phone mic and down the UDP connection all the way to Dream’s headphones. “Okay.”

And just as easy as they had started, they end. In the middle of the day, with the midday sun slipping its way through the slit in the curtain, George fell asleep with a heavy heart and a heavy chest.

The time George had gone without speaking to Dream in any capacity was three days, and it happened back when he was still in university, after their biggest argument to date. This time, it takes almost a week for George to talk to him. Arguably, it’s stupid and immature that it took him so long, especially because they were barely together for a couple months – they hadn’t even told anyone really, and it’s not like they were physically together. It was easy to pretend they never even happened, but George had long since resigned himself to the fact that he was going to love Dream for a long time.

They were in a VC with Sapnap and Callahan, with the intention of working on a plugin, though their focus had long since strayed and wondered away from Java and both had gone on deafen a couple minutes ago.

“I,” Dream started, and George knew him too well, because he knew that’s his voice, hesitant and stuttering and just a little higher-pitched than usual, when he’s going to confess something, and George was scared and still hurt and even though he knew whatever Dream was going to say was going to hurt him more, he still wanted to hear it. He could have cut him off, he could have gone on deafen – he probably should have, but even then, he would only be delaying the inevitable.

“I miss you,” Dream said, soft, and clear, and for the second time in a single week, George’s heart broke cleanly in two.

“I didn’t go anywhere,” George replied, even though both of them knew it was a lie, both of them could see the unopened Snaps and ignored DMs. Dream didn’t call him out on it.

Dream stuttered and stumbled over the start of his sentence before he got out, “I don’t want us to be awkward or- or weird, because you’re still, like, my best friend, and I still love you a lot.” And he wanted to explain that he wanted to get back together as soon as he’d said they were better as friends, because that had been complete bullshit borne of fear of losing him and getting his heart broken in the process. They were good as friends, incredibly so, but they were better as lovers. As friends, however good they were, they’d had to hide their feelings.

“We’re back to how we used to be,” George said, firm, and Dream hated that he knew the way his voice went even and steady that he was holding something back.

-

The End poem scrolls down their screens and George just knows what’s coming next.

“We should get back together,” Dream says again, but this time he sounds like he means it, and maybe George didn’t know what was coming next.

“Dream–“

“I broke things off because I was scared,” Dreams says in a rush, like he’d been holding it back the entire month, “I was scared of losing you.”

“You’re always going to have me,” George says, because it’s the truth. He knows he sounds shaky and unsteady but it’s the truest he can be, the closest he’s getting to baring his soul to him. “I’m always going to love you.”

“I- I think, I think I’m going to love you for a long time, probably forever, if I can,” Dream says, and he’s just barely come to accept that himself. He’s known for years that George was going to be in his life for a while, hell, he’d probably known with in the first couple months of properly knowing him, but loving him, this intensely, in this capacity was different.

George lets out the breath, “I’m going to love you for a very long time, probably,” he admits, though he supposes it’s more than obvious.

“I- I don’t want what we have or what we become to ruin our friendship.”

“I won’t let it,” George says firmly and sure and steady, but this time, he’s making a promise.

“Okay,” Dream says, a little shaky, “okay.”

He can hear the grin in George’s voice when he says, “Ask me to be your boyfriend again, Dream,” and he’s so dizzy with the need to see him, to hold him and to kiss him it takes all his self-control to not book a ticket to Heathrow, London right at this second.

“George, will you be my boyfriend?”

George takes a second, and Dream knows exactly what he’s going to say before he says it. “No,” George says, haughtily and Dream’s so close to losing any dignity he had left and asking George to turn his camera on – it’s close to a war crime that he can’t see the grin on his face.

Dream laughs, and tells him, “You’re such an idiot,” but even he can tell it sounds like ‘I love you’.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you liked it!! spare comment/kudo??


End file.
